


wind it back

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-11
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is deaged to three. Sam looks after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wind it back

Today Dean is three years and two months old.

Burrowing his head into the pilllow, Sam tries to remind himself of that when Dean pats him on the shoulder with tiny hands and gives him a lopsided hug which translates as _Good morning, Sammy! Now pay attention to me!_

"Sammy," Dean stage-whispers in his face. "Are you awake?"

Sam sighs and wonders if 'no' is an acceptable answer.

They're only four days into the curse. The spirit of a witch had apparently seen something of her dead son in Dean and had cursed him right before she was salted and burned. Dean regressed to just two months old and would be turning a year older every time midnight rolled around until he hit his real age of twenty-eight. Intellectually Sam knows that it's just a month and that Dean will be back to normal soon but that doesn't stop him from being terrified he's going to roll over in the night and squash little Dean or accidentally kill him in some other horrible way.

With no small amount of reluctance, Sam cracks his eyes open and isn't surprised to see that Dean's face is inches away from his own, big green eyes wide and curious as he pokes Sam curiously on the nose and waves at him.

"And good morning to you too, dude," Sam says, rolling onto his back with a yawn. Dean scampers after him and Sam lets him lie down on his chest as he asks, "How old are you today, kiddo?"

"Three years and two months," Dean says proudly.

Sam's still not completely sure whether this is Dean as he really was at three years and two months, development-wise, or whether potty-training and vocabulary help is part of the spell, but he's counting it as a win either way.

Dean props himself up on his elbows and Sam tries not to wince when they dig into his chest. "Sammy, what now?" And then, in case Sam needed suggestions: "I want pancakes."

Still waking up, Sam tilts his head on the pillow and looks at his newly little brother. He's starting to look more like Dean with every day that passes, changing from a chubby little baby to a toddler who can laugh and ask questions and demand ham at every opportunity, and despite the lack of sleep, Sam kind of likes seeing what his brother looked like when he was a kid.

Reaching down, he pushes the thick blond hair out of Dean's face and says with a smile, "Pancakes, huh?"

Dean's eyes light up and he nods, undoing Sam's attempts at hair control. "Big ones! With chocolate and stawberry and ladybugs!"

"Ladybugs."

Dean nods and grins. It looks almost like Dean's regular grin when confronted with a burger, right down to the enthusiastic glint in his eyes. "I like ladybugs!"

"Oh, really?" Sam rests his hands on the back of Dean's bare calves. "Because I see one right there."

The freckles across Dean's nose bunch up when he scrunches his little face up in a frown but the frown quickly morphes into a shriek of laughter when Sam tickles his way along his bare legs and then up under the over-sized sleep tee to tickle along Dean's ribs.

Dean yells and kicks, laughing too hard to be coordinate a defense, and Sam finds himself chuckling too when Dean squirms away from his hands and tries to pout past his smile. "No fair!"

Sam holds his hands up and turns his head to look at where Dean's lying next to him. "I'm sorry," he says with as much contrition as he can muster. It's hard to feel sorry for making Dean laugh like that, even if he is pint-sized and kinda cute. "I'll get you some pancakes to make it up to you. How about that? No ladybugs though - I don't think they serve those."

Dean's face is still pink from laughing but Sam guesses his apology has been accepted when Dean cuddles up close again. He rests his head on Sam's shoulder and Sam stays very still when Dean leans up to whisper in his ear, "Love you, Sammy."

The declaration is followed by a clumsy, childish kiss to his cheek and Sam tucks this affectionate, miniature version of Dean against him as he whispers back, "Love you too, kiddo."


End file.
